


All I Have Is You

by Serena_Rose



Category: The Good Place (TV)
Genre: Ace!Michael (implied), Character Development, Enemies to Friends, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Isolation, Memory Loss, One of the missing reboots, Platonic Soulmates, Redemption, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:48:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23687179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serena_Rose/pseuds/Serena_Rose
Summary: Attempt #801. The final reboot. When Michael tells Eleanor that she has no soul mate, he finds it difficult to leave her alone.Chaste romance / friendship, can be shippy if you want, I drew the line pretty close in some parts. I adore writing not-quite-redeemed Michael and anyone who's read my other fic knows I love breaking Eleanor Shellstrop.
Relationships: Janet & Michael (The Good Place), Michael (The Good Place) & Eleanor Shellstrop, Michael (The Good Place)/Eleanor Shellstrop
Comments: 14
Kudos: 64





	All I Have Is You

He has no idea why it never occurred to him before.

In every reboot, he paired her with a soul mate, just as he did the other three humans. For most of them, that soul mate was Chidi. A handful of times he chose Tahani. The one where he picked Jason was mostly for shirts and giggles; he knew the two dirtbags would confide in each other about not truly belonging. This resulted in rather weak torture, however, as the two spent most of their time hiding in Jason's bud hole and eating junk food, until a giant ladybug had to literally tear down the house to get them to come out. All the other reboots, he would pair Eleanor with a demon, each one who turned out to be more incompetent than the last. In all fairness, what Bad Place employee would know how to truly imitate human companionship? Even Vicky, his most dedicated performer, refused to work with Eleanor as she struggled to contain her contempt for the woman who kept spoiling everything.

Whoever Michael paired her with, the truth always came out. If he paired her up with a demon, it would drive her more quickly to find someone else, someone who really wanted to help her. If she was with one of the other humans, they would help and bond and improve each other, all that lame stuff. It was difficult to determine which method let the experiment drag on for longer as there were varying results. 

One time he'd given her a dog. Then Chidi soon saw the dog and was all over it and then, obviously, eventually all over Eleanor. He may as well have cut out the middleman. Or retriever. 

This time he wants to experiment. Try something new. That's what this is all for, at the end of the Bearimy, right?

When he wakes Eleanor up and welcomes her into the office, he has her sit in the same chair her butt has graced eight hundred times now, and that's only counting orientation. Her initial reaction is the usual doe-eyed, chilled out act as she subtly assesses the situation and how to play along with what Michael reveals to her. She's dead. There is a Good Place and a Bad Place, she's in the former.

They go for the same stroll through the neighbourhood, this one filled with faux Japanese sushi bars, Michael giving his usual speech about the three hundred and twenty-two souls blended together in harmony. He has her watch the movie. Her facial reactions are the same as in most versions. It never fails to amaze him just how well she is able to keep her true feelings under the surface. Looking at her sat there, the sun on her bright head, that peaceful smile on her face, who wouldn't look at her and immediately believe that she belonged in Heaven? Like an evil enchantress handing out poison apples, she was able to get sick grandmothers to buy digestible chalk, and none would doubt her sincerity. Not unless they knew her.

And Michael knows her better than any being in the Universe.

After the movie, he walks her to her house, answering her typical questions about who was in the Bad Place. Truthfully, Michael has no idea who made it into the Good Place, as his home was so massive that it was possible a human was there and he had no idea, only the ones he'd come into contact with when torturing. So, most of his answers are true. 

"No! Not Robin Williams! They sent the Genie to Hell?" Eleanor is truly devastated by that revelation.

"He lost a lot of points for License To Wed and Jack. Don't worry too much though, his torment is mostly being stuck in a theatre, forced to watch his worst roles and listen to audience reactions. In the grand scheme of things, he got off lightly."

Maybe that was too much? Would a Good Place Architect have detailed knowledge of what goes on down below? 

She doesn't seem to question it, instead expressing her disbelief that she was able to make it where so many great people failed to reach the mark. He tells her how special she is. The lawyer who saved innocent folks from death row. The humanitarian who fed orphans in third world countries. The woman who convinced the cast of Friends to do a reunion special. Michael has tried to layer on additions to 'Fake Eleanor's character in the reboots. At one point he knows he overstepped the mark a bit by making her believe she was the second coming of Jesus. She had caught on straight away and laughed so hard that even Michael had to let his mask drop and chuckle along with her before snapping his fingers. Too much, Mikey.

He shows Eleanor her pointed, colorful little house, situated next to Tahani's mansion. He leads her inside, watching her try not to flinch at the clown paintings or the awkward furniture. The discomfort buzzing from her aura as she suppresses her feelings has become old hat now. Once it had fed him, like a bowl of rats teeth, to see all the little glimmers of agony his humans endured. The cracks of anxiety growing larger, day by day, as they were trapped in this social nightmare. Even after two hundred failed attempts, it became even more of a high to get to see Eleanor suffer, each nervous laugh or loathsome cringe like a shot of heroine to her demonic rival. But after four hundred reboots, if that, he'd started to grow numb to the fix he'd once craved. That's why it was time to switch things up. 

"Now, before I leave you to get settled in, there is something I feel I should tell you." Michael says, brushing his fingers against her shoulder; "Do you remember the part of my video where I mentioned soul mates?"

Her eyes light up a little, after a moment of daunting horror at everything wrong with the home designed for 'her'.

"Ooh, who have I got? A wrestler? A mailman?" She gasps and clasps her hands together; "A wrestler mailman?! That is the dream! Or, failing that, Rhianna! I'm not fussy, any of those four will do!"

Michael can't help but smile. Finally, she's letting something of her true self shine through. Energetic, shallow and very horny. It's rather entertaining to see her setting herself up for her own plummeting descent.

"That's just it. You see, much like the point system we use to determine who gets into the Good Place, there is a similar set of complex algorithms used to determine which soul is best matched to you for eternity-"

"Dude! Spare me the jargon! I wanna meet my paradise bud already!"

But it's so much more fun to drag it out! The more Michael leaves her in suspense, the more of a thrill he gets in his juices, like the one he's been searching for all these different attempts. He imagines this is what riding a roller-coaster is like. A chilling ride upward to be followed by a euphoric rush while listening to the pleasant sound of other people's screams. Except he doesn't imagine Eleanor will scream. Maybe kick herself into a cursing fit, only to discover the words she wishes to use to release her rage are no longer available to her. The filter alone was a brilliant tool where a filthy-mouthed resident like Eleanor was concerned, how ironic it was a Good Place invention. 

Michael takes a breath and brings up the chart with a wave of his hand. The graphic displays an avatar representing her, or rather someone called 'Eleanor Shellstrop', along with her point total.

"I'm afraid this is what we encountered when our system tried to find your soul mate." He explains to her.

The graphic reads 'searching for match' along with a progress bar. It's scanning billions upon billions of souls. Michael glances from the screen to her, watching the excitement turn to confusion, then fear, on her face. The graphic then flashes red and reads 'no match found'.

"I'm sorry, Eleanor, but...you don't have a soul mate." He reveals to her.

He looks at her, staring at the screen. Her hands slowly fall to her side.

"Oh."

Michael feels...nothing.

Well, that was anticlimactic. So much build up and no pay off at all. He frowns, seeing the color slowly drain from her aura, as well as the light flicker in her eyes.

"Just to be clear, this has never happened before." He tries to twist the knife, see if that gets a more satisfying reaction; "I had my assistant, Janet, search through every record since they began, which was the dawn of creation. There’s no one even slightly compatible that even serve as a ‘potential’ soul ma-.”

“Okay, man, I get it. No soul mate for Eleanor. It’s fine.” She turns away from the screen, no longer wanting to look at it.

She’s hurting. He can see that. It’s definitely not a big win for her.

Why isn’t it one for him?

He watches as she folds her arms, as if holding herself together, hiding her face as if she’s about to cry. Michael frets at that. Crying was never good, especially not on the first day. There should not be crying in the Good Place. And Eleanor almost never cried. His favorite reactions from her where when she was at her most loud and sassy. She was his human firecracker.

The woman before him, crushed by being told she’s alone, is more like a candle left out in the rain.

He tries to build her back up, while still keeping up the act; “Hey, now, listen. What I think happened is, you were such a good person on Earth, someone who helped so many others that there simply wasn’t anyone in existence who would be a fitting match. You set such a high bar, Eleanor. That’s something to be proud of.”

It’s all nonsense, obviously. The whole idea of soul mates is a pile of dung he invented himself, primarily as a focus for Chidi’s torture that grew out into a larger concept for the whole experiment. Honestly, he was always surprised at how quickly Eleanor took to the idea. No matter who he paired her with, she was always so warm and trusting, immediately trying to confide her secret in them if they let her.

And yet she’d spent her entire life keeping everyone at an arm’s length unless they were of use to her. He’d studied her psychology, her deepest fears and desires. He knew she had abandonment issues and too many insecurities to count. She wanted friends. She wanted love. But she never believed it was real. Not until a handsome deity-like figure such as himself tells her it is.

Now, for the first time, he’s told her there is no true and real love waiting for her. And Michael can plainly see what it’s doing to her.

“I told you that you were special, Eleanor.” He carries on talking when she doesn’t respond; “I meant it. You’re the only person who made it to the Good Place, whose soul is so complete, that they don’t need another half to make them whole. Isn’t that just beautiful?”

For the love of Beyoncé, is she going to forking say something?

Eleanor lets out a sigh, as if letting out the final breath she never got to appreciate, before turning back with the fakest of smiles plastered on her face.

“Yeah, man. Amazing. Go me!” She cheers with minimal effort.

There’s a shimmer of tears in her eyes that she just managed to hold back. Why does seeing that make Michael’s insides twist and sting? It should be like getting fed fudge for the eyes.

“You sure you’re okay?” He asks, already knowing the answer.

She nods, lying; “Right as rain. Hey, it means I get to enjoy this…awesome house all by myself! Neat. Also, you said there’s, what, over three hundred people here? They might not be my soul mates, but I’m sure I’ll make some new buds soon.”

“Absolutely. In fact, come to the town square tomorrow. We’re going to be letting people fly. Trust me, it will be an experience you’ll never forget!”

Unless it was the previous eight hundred ‘flying day’ events she’s forgotten.

This time she won’t. This is the one, he knows it. Eleanor is already suffering internally with enough leeway that she’s not suspicious. He can pull this off. Easy peasy.

*

All of his fellow demons have been briefed on how this one will work. The focus of Eleanor’s torture is the concept of soul mates and her being the only one in eternity not to have one. Their job is to make sure there isn’t a second that goes by where she forgets that. Wherever she goes, she needs to see couples holding hands, sharing tender moments, staring gooey eyed at each other.

Tahani and Chidi will be blissfully unaware they are a part of the act. He’s paired Tahani with a demon called Nicholas who is pretending to be a dead prince, who happens to be the perfect height for her, constantly telling her how perfect she is, way more than her sister. Vicky is playing Chidi’s soul mate again, this time named Arianna who has a tragic backstory involving an orphanage fire, for some reason. She did such a good job making him fall for her the first time, it only made sense.

As for Jason, his soul mate is a Pikachu that Janet made as realistic as possible. Michael is content to have him frolic with the deformed mouse outside of town where he won’t be a bother for a while.

To start, everything must be focused on Eleanor. A point which none of his colleagues have a problem with. The annoying, blond clever-clogs has been a thorn in all their sides for too long. They all enjoy the challenge of breaking her as much as Michael used to.

Still does. Obviously.

When Eleanor arrives at the centre of town, Janet has already set up the stage for flying. This time there’s a theme. Easy to guess what.

“What could be better than flying? How about flying with your true love?” Michael declares, aloud; “Ever wanted to imitate that Superman scene? Or maybe join the Mile High Club without a plane? You’re free to do so, we just respectfully ask that you do your intercourse behind a cloud.”

The townspeople laugh, Chidi and Tahani less so as they’re unsure if he’s joking or not.

Eleanor shrinks back before she even gets close to the stage.

Glenn and Angelique hold hands as they step onto the fan in their matching jumpsuits. Every couple is given a different, matching set, as opposed to all blue. They share a kiss, hands clasped together, before rocketing into the air, never letting go. Everyone below, aside from one, lets out a gasp of wonder.

Chidi practically hops in excitement. He grabs Vicky – or rather, Arianna’s – hand, desperate to experience the same with her. He’s such a sap. Tahani follows suit, with slightly less enthusiasm, until her towering boyfriend puts a protective arm around her, whispering something in her ear to make her knees go weak.

She boasts about how Buzz Aldrin once took her to NASA to let her experience zero gravity, leaving out the part Michael is aware of, which involved a lot of floating vomit.

As she soars up in a scream of delight, holding tightly onto her fake prince, Michael looks back over to Eleanor.

Who is gone.

His brow creases and he jumps down from the stage, parting his way through the crowd and quietly demanding to be told where she is.

“Eleanor?” Michael finds her on her way back to her house, with the largest cup of frozen yoghurt they have available; “Don’t you wanna fly?”

He knows how badly she wants to, every time they do this. It’s what makes the disappointment so worth it when he finds a way to stop her the second before she’s able to experience it.

This time he was planning on letting her get into the air, letting her soar in her loneliness, surrounded by mushy, loved up human birds.

“Nah, I’m good, Michael.” She says, not stopping to talk to him; “I found a flavor called ‘Floating in Dreams’, I reckon it has about the same effect. Besides, it seems to be more of couple’s thing, right?”

“Well, it can be, but it’s not obligatory.” He tries to move in front of her, blocking her path; “C’mon, Eleanor. I’ve never met a single human who hasn’t wanted to fly before. And you, of all people here, deserve to live the dream, not just eat it.”

She looks away, struggling to hide her wants. There is something different about her in this reboot. Michael’s little twist seems to have fractured a part of her in a way he’s never seen before. She looks smaller, which is insane considering if Michael was in his real form they would all appear as fleas to him.

She looks defeated. As if she’s given up and thrown in the towel before even trying to beat his game. That’s not a fair fight. It’s not fun sport.

“I’ll pass. Thanks.” Eleanor tries to move past him again.

Shirt! Think, Mikey, think…

“What if I fly with you?” He offers, making her stop in her tracks.

Eleanor frowns, turning to him.

“Are you offering me a pity flight?” she asks, incredulous.

He laughs it off; “No, no, no. I’m serious. I haven’t been flying myself in over a hundred years. I was thinking of doing it again but, it’s like I’m sure you were feeling, it feels kinda silly doing it alone, right?”

She doesn’t confirm that was her hesitation, but she doesn’t need to.

“Please, oh please, Eleanor. You’ll be doing me a huge favour!” He finds himself begging her.

He knows she has a desire to please him to a degree, to do what it takes to keep him happy, so long as it guarantees her stay in the Good Place.

She smiles at his childlike giddiness, as if he’d just begged her for a McDonald’s.

“All right, fine.” Eleanor abandons her frozen yoghurt bucket on a window ledge; “But I’m just doing it for you.”

Michael lets out a laugh. He knows that’s a load of bullshirt. A classic Shellstrop move is pretending to do something altruistic when, in reality, it’s so she can piggyback off the fun. Like when she pretended to begrudgingly miss her grandmother’s funeral so she can take her roommate’s niece to Fast and Furious 6. 

“Oh, thank you!” He grabs her hand and pulls her back towards the stage.

When they reach the podium and step into their matching white jumpsuits, he sees a flicker of relief on Eleanor’s face that everyone else is up in the air, rather than having a crowd of people watch the one ‘single’ girl in the afterlife need to be paired with the Architect. Almost as embarrassing as a child who wasn’t picked for a team in Gym so they had to help the teacher keep score. Another real-life example to cause a familiar, humiliating flashback.

When she puts her goggles on, the strap is twisted over her ear a little so Michael adjusts it properly, tucking her hair in neat. He’s unsure what prompts it.

“Thanks, bud,” she replies, blushing a little, “Do you even need those goggles?”

“No. I don’t even need to wear glasses, I just think they suit me. Four eyes are better than two, right?” He always thought the fact of his human skin looked less intimidating when his eyes were framed by something.

Eleanor smiles at the comment, giving him that same look she always has whenever he expresses his joy in little human things that he finds interesting. Is she mocking him? Most likely. He’s used to that from all his fellow demons, teasing him for his nerdy obsession with humans, calling him ‘human humper’ and such.

Still, flying may not be a human thing. But, being a underground dwelling demon, he could share their excitement in being able to experience limitless motion through the air. Complete freedom.

“You okay? For an angel, you look more nervous about flying than me.” She says as Janet prepares the fan.

Does he? He could admit it had been a while but flying was hardly anything complicated or something that even contained any risk, especially not to him.

Or are other conflicting emotions showing on his face?

“I’m fine. And I’m not an angel. At least, if they were handing out wings, I was sick that day.” He moves in close and takes her hands; “Ready?”

She nods, becoming slightly more luminous.

“Too right I am! Let’s do this!” Eleanor bounces on her feet a little, probably only just accepting that this is about to happen.

Michael grins. That’s what he needs. His confident, spunky Eleanor.

On Janet’s cue, they both bend their knees, before shooting up high above the neighborhood. The frozen yoghurt shops and cobbled roads shrink away beneath them. Eleanor lets out a scream as she holds onto Michael’s arms. He finds he can’t tear his eyes away from the joy shining from behind those goggles. He regrets not letting her fly before.

“Oh my god! This is forking incredible!” She shouts, even though the wind is not as intense as it would be on Earth at this altitude. Nor is the temperature nearly as cold, it’s about as pleasant as it was on the ground.

“Y’know you can let go of my arm, you won’t fall.” He tells her, noticing how her fingers are like claws in his wrist.

Eleanor nods and carefully unlocks her fingers, clearly uncertain. Trust issues again.

“You’ll be okay. I wouldn’t let anything hurt you. I promise.” He reminds her.

She lets go and holds her palms out flat in front of her, taking in the realisation that she’s still flying hundreds of feet in the air. Eleanor keeps laughing as she dares to try moving a little, getting the feel of it, like swimming in the atmosphere.

Michael shows her how to do a summersault, which earns him a cheer.

“Nice! Looks like you earned those wings, dude.” She applauds him before trying to do a couple of rolls and moves herself.

“I knew you were a natural. Aren’t you glad I convinced you to do this now?”

“What’re you talking about? I came up here because you…” She then catches on and gives him a playful shove in the chest; “You made all that up about not getting to fly in hundreds of years? You tricky devil!”

Devil?! How the hell did she work it out so fa-

Oh, she’s joking. He knew that.

Michael laughs along with her; “I always enjoy any excuse to fly and it’s always better with someone else. I wasn’t going to let my best resident miss out on this.”

That opens a tiny fracture in her joy. Eleanor has no problem being called the best. But when it’s a lie, like it is now, it’s nothing but a reminder that there is someone much better than her. Even if that person doesn’t exist.

“Listen, I need to do a quick zoom around, check on the others. You enjoy flying off as far as you want and I’ll try to find you later, sound good?” He reaches to touch her arm.

She nods; “Sure, man. Go do your thing, I’ll be off getting snow from those mountain tops.”

“Have fun.”

“You too. Don’t work too hard, dude, you’ve done a great job here. You deserve your downtime.”

He watches her go, her words lingering. They were so odd and yet it was hardly the first time she’d expressed such a sentiment towards him. She always seemed to encourage him to not let work stress him out. To let go and have fun. It had seemed so alien to him a long time ago. Work, as in torturing humans, was fun. It was the only fun he’d ever known or be allowed to know. Then Eleanor had showed him so many games and activities that were completely pointless but had made him laugh more than any go at popping eyeballs ever did.

Michael always put it down to her having an agenda. Befriend the boss in order to make him more sympathetic when the roof comes caving in. She never really cared or wanted to be his friend.

But, right then and there, he’s unsure what prompted such a remark. Was she right? He didn’t really need to check in on the other residents. He could see both Tahani, Chidi and their respective soul mates having a blast from here. Would there be any harm in following Eleanor? It would be interesting to check out the mountains he’d designed, as he hadn’t really had a use for visiting them earlier. Why did she want snow? A snowball fight? He’d always wanted to try one of those-

“Hey, Boss.” Glenn hovers up beside him, breaking his train of thought; “Nice work getting Eleanor up here! We’ll all get into our places, yeah.”

Glenn doesn’t wait for Michael’s explicit confirmation, but he also doesn’t say otherwise.

How could he have forgotten what they had planned?

He lowers himself a few dozen feet in the air and looks up. He watches as almost every resident in the air happen to form a swarm of couples around her. They hold hands, they kiss, ew, they hug and Vicky is even daring to sing a romantic ballad to Chidi who is more into it than he would have guessed. He keeps his eye on Eleanor, his focus better than that of a human, able to keep a tab on her expression and her aura.

The fire is starting to flicker out again as she’s, once again, confronted by the fact that she’s alone. She tries to make her way through to get to the mountains, but she keeps bumping into all the couples. The perfect pairs, fulfilling the ultimate romantic fantasy. He can see she’s tempted to shove them out of the way, the more frustrated she gets, but is afraid to give herself away. She’s paralysed, unable to enjoy what all humans dream of.

It’s going exactly as planned. Great. Real great.

Then she falls, her body plummeting at an insane rate.

“Eleanor!” He forgot this part.

Faster than he’s ever moved through air before, he zooms down and forward, catching her before she smashes through one of the rooftops. She instinctively puts her arms around his neck as he settles and perches, as it were, to sit on the roof with her held on his lap. He takes a moment to hold her tight, checking she’s all in one piece.

Stupid, useless idiots! They were supposed to set her fall up over the lake! What were they thinking? She could have been seriously hurt…which would have given the whole game away.

She’s breathing heavily, close to hyperventilating, her hand on the back of his neck.

“Holy shirtballs. I almost…well. I dunno what I almost…” Not ‘die’, obviously.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He says, carefully untangling from her, “I’m gonna assume you didn’t intend to fall.”

“No, man. I was just up there, having fun, zooming around and then…I just lost it.” She skips over some details which Michael is already aware of.

Like how the set up was there to imply her feelings of loneliness and not truly belonging caused her to spoil her own flying experience.

“That’s never happened before. I’ll consult with Janet, there must be some sort of glitch. Come on, hold onto me.” He tells her as he takes one last, gravity reduced leap off the rooftop.

Her arms slide around him with absolute trust. It hurts.

Michael sets her down on the pavement when they land.

“Oh, well. I guess this means flying will now be post-poned for a thousand years until we can guarantee the bug is removed!” He makes a show of throwing his hands up in the air.

“That long? I’m sorry, Michael. I could see how much you loved being up there.”

She’s more bummed about it for his sake than her own? That was a new reaction. Then again, the usual case was he banned flying before she ever got to experience it.

“I’ll be fine, Eleanor. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I think my head might be upside down, under my feet…but I’ll live. Or not. Whatever this is.” She tries to laugh it off, despite how clearly she’s shaken from that terrifying fall; “I’m lucky you caught me.”

“Luck had nothing to do with it. I promised you that you wouldn’t be hurt, remember?”

“I know, it’s just,” she catches her breath, removing her goggles, “I’m not used to people keeping promises like that.”

He knows that. He meant his.

No physical harm, at least nothing too severe, would ever come to Eleanor Shellstrop or any of his humans. Not on his watch. Mental and emotional torture only. He could have easily let Eleanor’s body break apart when it hit the chimney and have her splattered across the street, still fully conscious, as the residents attempted to piece her back together like a jigsaw. What subtlety was there in that? What purpose or real effort?

“I told you, Eleanor. You’re safe. Now you should go on home in case more of the residents turn into a human hailstorm.”

He turns to let her leave, surprised when she then reaches for his hand and kisses his cheek.

It leaves him stunned. He turns to her, unable to stop his eyebrows raising high.

At first, he worries that she’s about to try that ridiculous ‘seduce Michael’ plan from fifty reboots ago. When he’d discovered what was happening, as Eleanor had entered his office in lingerie and the reddest of lips, Michael had snapped his fingers so fast that there were friction burns on his thumb. Dumb, horny humans.

But he sees in her eyes, this is different. There’s no sultry glimmer or batting of eyelids. Only fondness. Gratitude.

“Thanks, bud.” She whispers, “I owe ya.” Then she turns to go home.

He watches her go, his cheek still tingling, probably from that disgusting human saliva. He opens his mouth but the words fail him. He wants to tell her that she owes him nothing. What could a mere mortal with no powers ever do for him? He sighs, replacing his goggles with his glasses, seeing a glint of something shiny on his wrist.

His paperclip bracelet. He doesn’t even remember putting it on this morning.

*

It’s the day of Tahani’s party, always the big opener for the torture ahead. She comes to him in the morning to inform him that she tried to invite her ‘odd but adorable’ next door neighbor to the do but she doesn’t answer the door. After asking around town, Michael learns that Eleanor hasn’t left her house in three days.

Ever since the flying incident, he’d turned his attention elsewhere. Watching Vicky torture Chidi by asking which of the few non-froyo restaurants they should have dinner at. Seeing Tahani start to get annoyed in the smallest flaws of her prince, such as him not being able to tell Harry from William. Little seeds of torment that can start to be watered.

Also, Jason has evolved his Pikachu into an even more horrifying electrified rat. Michael just lets him get on with whatever at this point.

The rest of the time, Michael stays in his office, receiving updates from his fellow demons and working out more designs with Janet, who he’s convinced is far more alert and talks back more than he’d like after several hundred reboots. She had suggested he check on Eleanor, as if implying he worried about her, to which Michael had ordered her to disappear to her void.

He didn’t think there was a need to be worried. Then again, no one had bothered to tell him she was self-isolating now.

He doesn’t want to see her. His cheek was still feeling wrong from that kiss.

Janet sees her all the time. But Michael can’t get Janet to tell her what Eleanor is up to or what she needs from her. At least, that’s what Janet claims. He’s not sure he believes her. He has to go visit her. As Janet so clearly points out, she has no one else. Just as he wanted.

Michael knocks on the door.

“Eleanor? Can I come in?” He knows it’s not like anything could have happened to her. Unless she managed to slip away to Mindy’s again.

But she would have needed Janet, who was still here.

“You built the house, dude, go right ahead.” He hears her say.

When he enters, he finds Eleanor laying on the sofa, still in her pyjamas, eating a bowl of fried shrimp as she watches wrestling on the tv screen. It doesn’t look, or smell, as though she’s bathed in a while.

Is she even trying to hide her identity from him at this point? Or doesn’t she care?

“Everything okay? I got told no one has seen you around town lately.” Michael walks over to sit on the arm of the sofa.

Eleanor shrugs; “Why bother going out? I got my girl Janet to bring me everything I want. Hey Janet!”

“How can I help?” Janet asks as she pops into the room.

“More seafood sauce, babe. Thanks.” She takes the packet, drizzling it over the shrimp in her bucket, not caring that some drips onto her blanket.

Janet turns to him; “Hi, Michael.”

She only says two words but her eyes speak volumes. It’s like she knows this isn’t going to plan. No, scratch that, it’s going right for the most part. Eleanor is depressed, there’s no denying that. It wasn’t quite the result he intended.

“Thank you, Janet. I’ll talk to you later.”

“I’m sure you will.” She says, flashing that knowing smile before disappearing.

“Hey,” Eleanor speaks around the food stuffed into her mouth; “Is Janet your soul mate? Are you and her like….?” She imitates the sound of bed springs creaking.

“No. No we are not.”

“Okay cool. Because she’s a bit out of your league, pal, no offense.” She says, eyes still mostly on the wrestling as Stone Cold Steve flips his opponent on his head.

It’s interesting for Michael to see what happens to Eleanor when she’s alone. She hasn’t sought out someone to help her improve. She isn’t making an effort to pretend she fits in. Without Chidi, without a desire to belong here, she’s actually something of a slob, a listless bum. She’s Jason, double the brain cells, minus the bounciness.

“I was asked to check on you. People were getting worried.” He tells her.

She scoffs at that; “No they weren’t. They’re all so wrapped up in their perfect ‘baes’ that they don’t even know my name.”

“That’s not true. Tahani from next door has invited you to the welcome party she’s set up for the entire neighborhood.”

“Ugh, that Tahani is such a fake, condescending…” She looks at Michael and seems to remember, at last, who it is she’s talking to; “…I mean, I can see how she comes off as that, but I bet she’s actually a sweet British hottie. And I’m sure she throws amazing parties, I’m just not in the mood for one right now, sorry.”

“Look, I’m really sorry that flying was a bust. I’ve done everything I can to check the neighborhood over so nothing like that happens again.” He tries to assure her, taking a seat beside her; “Come on, surely it will be fun to have a drink and meet some new people, right?”

She looks at him, her brow creasing; “Why is it so important to you that I go?”

“You’re one of the highest point getters here. Everyone is dying, excuse the phrase, to meet you.” He lies and then follows it up with a truth; “And I don’t want you to be alone here, in the dark, watching TV and missing out on something fun. Listen, Eleanor,”

He reaches for her hand.

“I was going to tell this to everyone at the party but I’ll let you in on an exclusive scoop.” Michael says, “This is my first neighborhood. I’ve been an apprentice for two hundred years and, usually, the Architect doesn’t live with the humans. We just bring them here, let Janet suit their needs, then we go onto the next project. But I wanted to stay here, I wanted to meet all of you and see what humans are like up close. I wanted to make sure you were all happy. I assumed, given your reputation, you would be the best person to help with that.”

Her mouth quirks a little; “I can see why you’d think that. On the other hand, you said I could have and do whatever I want here, right? Given what a saint I was then surely I’ve earned the right to set up camp on my sofa with food and TV for eternity if I want.”

Oh, that is brilliant. She’s setting it up so that the ball is in his court to find out if she doesn’t belong or not. Without a human connection, she feels no necessary anxiety to hide the truth but also no obligation to reveal it. If Michael suspects something is wrong then he has to uncover his own failure without Eleanor needing to feel she’s giving herself away. That is demon worthy manipulation right there. Three centuries and she is still surprising him! He hides his pride behind a look of uncertainty.

“Of course, you’re free to do what you want. It’s just, given what I read in your file, I don’t believe you really want to shut yourself away like this.” He counters.

She looks intrigued enough to ignore her wrestling now; “Why do you care so much about humans?”

“Because, you all fascinate me so much. You’re all so…complex and unpredictable. I even have a collection of human objects, I’ll show it to you one time.” He already has. More than a few. It was always a bit different than the last, with more items added, with each version of Eleanor never noticing the difference.

She nods and then points to his wrist.

“That explains the paperclip bracelet. I was gonna ask about that, in case it was like some angelic amulet or something.”

Michael glances at it. He feels a heavy weight in his chest.

“Yeah. A friend made me this. First human I ever really hung out with. She was something special.” He reminisces slightly, feeling a terrible sting with the knowledge that said human is sat right in front of him.

Only she doesn’t remember. That version, the first Eleanor, died three hundred years ago. She no longer exists, along with all the other Eleanors, both the ones who were his rivals and the ones he befriended – a lot of the time, both cases were true. Each one he developed a unique relationship with only for it to dissolve to nothingness with a snap of his fingers.

He buries the loss under frustration, anger and a determination to try again. And again.

Eleanor sighs; “Will it really hit your human fanboy g-spot if I go?”

“I would appreciate it. You did say you owe me one.” He realises he can play that card, so he does.

Eleanor makes a face like she regrets those words. Payback for the icky kiss he still hasn’t had time to wash off.

“I did say that. Ugh…”

“I can guarantee there will be an all you can eat shrimp buffet and tequila on tap.”

“A party, you say?! Let’s get going!” She gets up off the sofa and stretches her legs. Michael smiles at her as she tries to sort out her haystack of hair.

What can he say? He knows what his girl likes.

*

It’s the same plan as with flying day.

He’d specifically made a request to Tahani to put something of a romantic, almost Valentine’s theme to the event. The music is suited for waltzes and there’s roses decorating every threshold. When the residents enter, they are given matching rings, each with a symbol to represent their bond.

It’s almost an hour in before Eleanor arrives and Michael worries she wouldn’t come at all. If she was just going to mope in her house for the experiment, then it would have to reset. Sure, she was miserable, as intended. But where was the fun for anyone involved, including her?

At last, he spots her through the crowd, wearing the same black dress as she always does to the first party. He doesn’t plan on giving her a sash this time. He can’t help but think that tiara rather suits her more than she would admit.

He goes to her, relived to see her show up.

“I’m so glad you decided to come. You look beautiful.” He can see she looks uncertain and awkward already.

He might not be able to recognise human attractiveness on a sexual level. But she does look good in that dress, even he can see that.

“Couldn’t let my only friend in Heaven down now, could I.” She says, self-defeating.

Michael blinks. Friend? Did she already consider him that?

He supposes he’s the only real person she’s been in close contact with since she arrived. It wasn’t unheard of for affection-starved humans to imprint on the one source of communication and comfort. It’s a side effect of the plan, the torture. It’s not real.

It can never be real.

“Also, you promised me shrimp and booze. Don’t hold out on me, wing boy.” She reminds him.

He smiles; “In good time. How about we just mingle first, yeah? Oh,” he looks at her hand; “You didn’t get a ring?”

Eleanor makes a face; “Not you too, man. I already had about six couples waving their big old rocks in my face. I swear Tahani’s diamond nearly took my eye out. No, of course I didn’t get one! They come in pairs and I’m…flying solo, remember?”

She looks down at her hand with the look of a kicked puppy.

Now usually Michael had no problem with kicking puppies but this look of self-pity was too much to bear.

“How about this?” He takes off his paperclip bracelet and removes one of the links. He then bends two together, twisting them into an almost Celtic pattern, to form a small, simple ring which he slips onto Eleanor’s middle finger.

Her brow creases as she gazes down at it and then back up to Michael.

She laughs; “Dude, this is either the most adorable or the most lame thing anyone has ever given me. I’m kinda impressed. But, c’mon, I thought that bracelet meant something to you?”

It’s nothing. He’s merely returning part of it to the one who gifted it to him in the first place.

“I can make another. And it’s not like she was a face I’ll ever forget.” Partly because he has a near perfect memory. Also, because he’s looking at her right now.

Eleanor strokes the folded metal around her finger, a rush of color returning to her cheeks. He had expected her to laugh the gift off entirely. Maybe she is keeping it on for the sake of pretence. Her expression and the warmth in her aura says differently.

“Thank you…”

He touches her arm, gently; “Now, you go talk, meet your fellow residents. I need to chat with some people and make a speech. Enjoy.”

Michael moves away from the woman whose confused smile was about to bring him out in a rash of discomfort. Once again, Eleanor was throwing him off with her unpredictable reactions. In what world does Eleanor appreciate a silly piece of tat as jewellery? And how had she manipulated him into taking apart his precious bracelet in the first place?

He’s glad to find his fellow demons, managing to get Vicky to leave Chidi’s side for a moment to talk shop with her.

“This guy is such a drip. It’s a good thing I am dedicated to my role and Arianna’s love for him or I swear I’d glass his eyeballs with his own lenses.” Vicky whispers to him.

Michael glances over, seeing Chidi find Eleanor at the side of the room. He’s trying to start a conversation but she’s deflecting, closing herself off and brushing him away. Hopefully this will be a seed planted for when Eleanor inevitably reaches out to him for help.

“So, what’s the next move? The dance, right?” Vicky gets his attention again; “I’ve been binge watching Dancing With The Stars for years now! Shall I get Chidi to spin me and then I knock into Eleanor and send her falling into the shrimp?”

“Hmm,” he replies, still watching Eleanor; “Yeah, sure, sure. Sounds great.”

Eleanor remains stood at the back, cradling a glass of wine in her hand, eyes looking off with a distant stare. Almost as if she wasn’t fully here.

Come on, Eleanor. Cheer the fork up already.

This may be the Bad Place but that didn’t mean it had to be a complete bummer.

Michael steps up on stage, giving the same speech he had said earlier about being the first Architect to choose to stay in the neighborhood. He adds to it the reminder that everyone in that room deserved the very best place to live. Because, after all, they were all the very best people. He watches Eleanor, who usually swigs her whole glass back when he says that part. This time it doesn’t even look as though she was listening.

“Anyway. It’s time to dance! Grab your soul mate and make some magical memories.” He tells them, making a gesture to the live orchestra to start playing; “Those rings we gave you are not just accessories, as you’ll soon see!”

He watches as everyone, sans Eleanor, makes their way onto the wide, open floor space. Chidi and Vicky move in close, together, taking each other’s hands. When their rings touch and connect, they emit a small shining light, which then launches into a silent firework above their heads, raining down multi-colored sparkles around them. The two of them glance up in awe before leaning in to kiss. The same happens with all the other couples when their hands meet in the waltz. Tahani is almost more focused on the shower of diamonds which emit from her ring than the fake prince twirling her around.

Michael looks to Eleanor. She’s glaring at the rest of them now, though even that seems to be with minimal effort. She sips her drink but it’s not as quick as they need her to be. She also ate a lot of junk food beforehand which probably lined her stomach. She looks down into her glass, all too thoughtful. He hated seeing her like this.

Chidi twirls Vicky with a lot of enthusiasm. Romantic nerd. When the music turns a little more upbeat, he turns her away and she twirls on her feet, spinning towards a spaced-out Eleanor.

Michael swoops in and takes her hand, gently pulling her aside, away from where Vicky smacks her face into the wall without Eleanor noticing.

“Sorry for the wait.” Michael tells her while Vicky pulls back and rubs her nose; “Listen. Would you like to dance?”

She gives him an odd look, a touch of the sass he adored in her; “Is this another humany thing you need an escort for?”

“Something like that. It doesn’t seem fair we should be the only one left out.” He holds his hand out to her.

She gives it a quizzical look and then puts down her champagne glass.

“Fancy waltzes aren’t really my thing, man.” She boasts, which he knows is a lie, that as much as she tries to pretend she’s rough and hardened, she secretly yearns for someone to treat her like a princess, with all the classic romantic tropes; “If I do this for you, we’re no longer even.”

“Noted.” Michael agrees, curling his long fingers around her hand and leading her as the music slows.

He glances over the top of her head at a baffled Vicky. She mimes ‘what the here are you doing?’ before Chidi comes over, checking her nose is okay, and she immediately slips back into character. Michael is well aware that she’s not the only demon glancing over in confusion as to why he’s filling in as Eleanor’s date when the whole point of this torture is to isolate her.

It just. Doesn’t seem. Right. He can’t explain it and he knows that he should leave her to drown in the alcohol and misery he designed for her. He notices how Eleanor trembles a little when she finally allows Michael to lead their slow and careful steps, weaving between the other couples, the music thankfully at a point where he doesn’t need to try any showy, complicated moves that she wouldn’t be ready for, that would cause her more humiliation. At every other party before this, that would obviously have been the intention. But it doesn’t feel fair at this moment. He would prefer the trembling to stop, it makes him feel weird, so he draws her in close, hoping it brings some warmth or comfort or whatever is causing it. Humans are so pathetic and delicate.

“You okay there, buddy? You feel a little tense.” Eleanor shocks him by showing concern about him.

He blinks; “Me? I’m fine.” Was he tense? What did he have to be tense about? He’s not the fragile lower being in this pair. “First dance with a human, don’t wanna spoil it.”

A blustered lie, he’s danced with plenty of humans before, including Frank Sinatra on a rack of burning coal. This might be quite a bit different to those times.

Eleanor smiles and puts her arm around him a little more; “I’m no expert but I think you’re doing great. It’s a bit dry though, I doubt there’s any chance my ring has the same magic pixie dust as everyone else’s.”

Michael pulls back a little, his hand remaining on her waist, to look at her hand in his. He rubs his thumb over the simple, bent metal around her digit, making it shimmer with a purple glow. It then emits a burst of energy which radiates throughout the room, creating not just a firework display, but projecting an image of a galaxy of stars around the ballroom.

“Motherforker,” Eleanor whispers in awe, while everyone else gasps, some in wonder and others in confusion.

Michael glances over at Tahani, seeing that she’s torn between appreciating the beauty of the display while also jealous at the inadequacy of her ring’s effect. Chidi looks like he’s about to burst his spleen with happiness and proceeds to sweep a rather overwhelmed ‘Arianna’ off her feet. He’s not sure why humans are so enamoured by the sight of space. It’s basically just a giant attic of stardust.

But Eleanor is happy. That’s an undeniable fact that’s beaming up at him right now, literal stars reflected in her eyes.

“Not bad, Tinkerbell.” She compliments, teasingly undermining her thrill,

She leans in to rest her head below his chin as they continue swaying, gliding their feet across a green nebula. She still trembles, ever so slightly, and Michael begins to wonder if that’s actually a sign of human approval he hadn’t noticed before. Like a cat purring or a football hooligan starting a drunken brawl. He can feel her heartbeat racing against his empty chest. Is she relaxed or nervous? Afraid? Content? There were too many emotions to keep track of and he can’t tell where Eleanor’s end and his begin anymore.

Anger and confusion. Those were all that were necessary. They were the easy ones, the ones he’d been raised on, so he understands as much as any human. Everything else was too damn complicated.

Maybe just keep things simple for a few weeks. He’d given her enough cruelty on her first day with that revelation to hurt her for a while. Eventually it would pass and he’d have to shake things up again, throw in a curveball just when she starts to feel used to being here without a soul mate. He’d have plenty of time to figure all that out.

Right now, he didn’t see the harm in giving her a moment of security, a taste of what she’s missing out on. Like waving a lollipop in front of a child’s face before snatching it away. Except. He doesn’t want to let her go and the very thought makes him tense up again, holding her closer to him.

“Oh god! Oh god, what is going on!?” Chidi starts to scream from across the room.

Michael looks up, initially irritated at Professor Buzzkill spoiling the mood, before he sees what is happening.

Chidi is clinging onto Vicky’s hand as his body is being violently sucked back into an open, black chasm forming behind them.

“Oh dear!” He has to pull away from Eleanor now, “It seems to be another glitch, I’m sorry, but it looks like the galaxy simulation got overpowered and has now formed a black hole. Chidi, I’d advise not letting go, unless you fancy a trip to another dimension!”

“I very much do not fancy that!” He exclaims, face coated in terror fuelled sweat.

“Sorry,” he says to Eleanor, ushering her as far as he can from the black hole so she’s out of the danger zone, “I gotta go fix this real quick. Janet, any idea why this is happening?”

“Unclear,” Janet appears beside Chidi; “I’m sure once I detect the source of the error then there’s a sixty-eight per cent chance I will be able to stop Chidi from falling into certain doom.”

“What?!” Chidi freaks at the uncertain odds, one of his shoes leaving his foot and flying backward into the void.

Michael suppresses a grin. For some reason, Chidi’s bouts of horror and directional crisis still gave him a kick. It wasn’t quite the same as he used to get with Eleanor but it was enough to keep him going. He keeps up the act of concerned Architect while the other residents act shocked around them.

“Right, of course, we need to find what is out of place and causing this, so if everyone could just line up at the back and then if you’re willing to answer a set of questions-.”

“Don’t bother.” Eleanor says.

She rips the paperclip ring off her finger and the star projection disappears, along with the black hole. Chidi stumbles forward and clutches for Vicky, all safe and sound save for one shoe now lost to oblivion. Eleanor hands the ring back to Michael, looking dejected.

He frowns at her; “How did you know…?”

“Get rid of the source, right? The error?” She gestures to herself; “Doesn’t take a genius to figure out what the turd in this dish is.”

It makes him wince to hear her speak of herself like that. He’s more surprised at how quick she was willing to save Chidi when the two have barely spoken yet.

“Thanks for the dance, I’m gonna go stuff myself with shrimp.” She walks off with an air of self-loathing, not caring for everyone staring at her.

“El-.” Michael tries to reach for her, only to have Vicky tug on his arm.

“Let her go, man. Isn’t this what we want? You stall her any longer, the party is gonna be over before she can get hammered and make a fool of herself.” She points out; “By the way, nice work with that whole space and black hole trick. I don’t think any of us were sure where you were going with that at first.”

It wasn’t one of the demons who caused that then. He suspected one of them had found a way to manipulate the simulation. Freestyle torture. If it wasn’t one of the others and, obviously, it wasn’t himself who caused it…

“Glad you liked it.” Michael lies, taking the credit. The alternative implications are too risky.

Maybe he did cause it without realizing. His thirst for torture manifesting unwittingly, similar to what happens with Eleanor after every party. Could the system really turn on him like that?

He notices Vicky has left Chidi with Tahani and a couple of other demons posing as concerned citizens. He seems to be shaken to his core after escaping an eternity imprisoned beyond the veil of reality. What a whimp. Tahani comforts him between throwing suspicious glances at Eleanor, who has now pitched her spot at the bar.

He watches as she proceeds to knock back shot after shot of tequila, grimacing after each one. Michael sighs and rubs the paperclip ring still clenched in his hand.

It looks as though Chidi is about to go make an attempt to comfort her before Vicky swoops back in to lead him away.

“Hi, Michael. Can I help you with anything?” Janet asks, appearing at his side.

“What? No. Did I summon you?” He frowns at her.

“Nope. Just thought I’d come check if everything was fine.”

He bristles at that. Janet isn’t supposed to act of her own accord, especially not this early, not before she’s spent time with the other humans. She’s giving him that look again as well which make him feel like he has to ask her for something. He’s not sure what she expects.

“Fine and dandy. Now buzz off.” He mutters at her.

“Okay!” She pops out of the room, this time with a buzzing sound rather than her pleasant bing chime.

Very funny.

He glances over at Eleanor as she helps herself to another glass of wine while using her other hand to sneak shrimp into her bra. Everything was back on track. She’s now the image of a sad young spinster at a party surrounded by loved up couples. Except there’s no one to really embarrass herself in front of as there is no one around her. She’s forced to watch from the wings as everyone else has a dance together in the spotlight.

A passing couple of demons move past him and he overhears them gush about how awful Eleanor looks, giggling like it’s the best entertainment they could hope for. Why do they get such enjoyment out of it? Why is he left standing there, pressing the ring into his palm until it stings, wishing they could rewind and go back to as they were before the black hole appeared?

What the fork has Eleanor done to him?

Nothing. She’s nothing but a powerless, limited human. She hasn’t even tried to defeat him in this version and yet, somehow, she’s succeeded.

He sees her finally give up and turn around, knocking into the now empty shrimp buffet tower, sending two of the plates crashing loudly to the ground. She stumbles towards the entrance, where there are steps she’s no doubt bound to trip on, fall and break her neck, which would look awful and be a pain to have to snap back into place.

Michael is there to grab her arm before her heel can give way and cause her to tumble out the mansion. He’s not quite sure how he made it across the foyer quick enough.

“Easy…” he tells her, concerned.

“Ugh, you again.” She slurs, wrenching her arm away from his grip; “Lemmie guess, you’re gonna try and get me to stay, huh? Keep enjoying this mega awesome party where I get to stand in the corner all alone until the resident god dad takes pity on me? No, thanks. I’mma head on home with my shrampies.”

“I wasn’t going to make you stay.” He tells her, “I just came to make sure you were all right.”

She raises her arms in the air, a couple of shrimp falling out the side of her dress.

“Why wouldn’t I be all right? I’m in Heaven, baby!” She laughs and hiccups; “I’m in Heaven and I’m all alone, without any stupid soul mate to bother me, or tie me down! Ha. And not only that but I can’t even make friends because my very existence is causing this place to go all psychedelic. That’s great because who the fork needs friends anyway? I got on just fine before, not like I want ‘em now.”

Her words hit home for him in a way he’s never registered before. Even without knowing her profile like the back of his hand, he understands what she’s feeling right now, better than anyone in this neighborhood or maybe beyond.

He watches her stagger again and he reaches for her.

“Let me walk you home.” He tells her, suspecting there might be people watching, having heard her intoxicated rant.

He doesn’t care about them.

“No, dude, get back to your party. Go enjoy geeking out over being around humans, dance the night away, all that crab. I’m done. Stop letting me spoil everything.”

“You haven’t…” He sighs and takes off his jacket, putting it around her shoulders; “Let’s just get you home.”

“Michael, I…”

She doesn’t put up a fight, probably realizing she has little chance of making her way back in the state she’s in. Just like the dancefloor, she leans into his touch as he carefully helps her walk back, her legs like those of a baby deer. Eventually she slips her arm into his, which makes it easier for the both of them.

He places his hand over hers, feeling the indent where he’d placed the ring before. It’s one of the most quiet and thoughtful walks of Michael’s existence as he takes Eleanor home, the two of them in complete silence. He wishes it could last longer, give him time to make sense of the Rubix cube of feelings in his head. Every time he does something to Eleanor which he knows is wrong, for a demon, it feels right. And the opposite is also true. It’s like his very nature has been turned inside out.

She tries sending him away, only for Michael’s benefit, so she doesn’t pull him down with her. But when she allows him to be close, she starts clinging on like a little blond spider monkey. And what should disgust him now brings him a different, warmer rush than any sadistic fix he craved before.

When they enter her house, she immediately pulls away and starts taking off her shoes, Michael’s jacket falling from her shoulders.

“Stupid house, stupid paintings, stupid no stairs to my own bed.” She mutters.

He presses the switch beneath the ledge to make the steps appear from the walls.

“Oh, that would have been handy to know!” Eleanor yells, picking out the shrimp from her bra. She turns to Michael; “Well then. I guess you’ve figured it out by now.”

“Figured out what?”

“The glitch? The error in your perfect utopia?” She yells, pointing to herself; “You just walked her home. It’s me. I’m the one who doesn’t get a soul mate, I’m the one who ruined flying, I’m the one who caused a black hole to almost suck that Cheerio guy away forever. It’s all me, Michael. I’m the problem.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am. Because I don’t belong here!” She confesses, “Your system isn’t the problem, it’s me! Or, actually, it’s a bit of both because someone forked up putting me here.”

“Eleanor, what are you talking about? You’re a good person, no one belongs here as much as you do.” He tries to reassure her.

“I’m not that Eleanor, man! I wasn’t some hero lawyer lady who loves clowns, I was a wreck! A trashbag who did nothing but push people away and mistreat them my entire life! I don’t belong here! Okay?! I’m not your perfect Eleanor, I don’t deserve to live in paradise or fly or dance with an angelic silver fox - I’m NOTHING!”

She collapses on the sofa, burying her head in her hands. Her tears are released in heavy, ugly sobs as she hides her face.

Michael stares at her. In all these hundreds of attempts, there has yet to be a single one where Eleanor confessed to him that she didn’t belong in the first week. More than that, it always took some sort of threat to get the truth to come out. Chidi’s anxiety, Michael’s possible retirement, Tahani thinking she was the one about to be sent to the Bad Place. There were dozens of variations but not once did Eleanor ever simply spill the beans and put her place here at risk, not even when drunk.

He sits down on the coffee table in front of her.

“How about I let you in on a secret too?” Michael says, “This isn’t the Good Place. I’m not an angel, which isn’t even the correct term as I’ve mentioned several times already. You’re in the Bad Place and I’ve been torturing you this whole time.”

Eleanor sniffs and raises her eyes to meet his.

Then she laughs.

“Oh. Good one!” She playfully bats his arm, smiling through her tears; “You almost had me for a second there! Hah, ‘this is the Bad Place’! Yeah, right!”

Michael suddenly has the biggest headache.

Seriously?

“You don’t need to make up a lie like that to make me feel better.” Eleanor says, rubbing her damp cheek; “This place is perfect, you’re perfect, everyone is perfect…I’m the problem. If you wanna send me to the actual Bad Place then go ahead, I deserve it. I mean, look at me! It makes perfect sense that no one could be my soul mate. Who would want this for eternity, once they got over how hot I was, only to find there’s nothing underneath but…shirt?”

He wants to tell her about Chidi and how the two of them found each other multiple times and even confessed their love for each other. He wants to tell her about how Tahani has been as close to her as a sister, sometimes more, in so many variations. He wants to give her back all the memories of her and Jason partying like a couple of college drop outs.

He wants to tell her how he’s known her, hundreds of times, and how he’s become obsessed with trying to understand her, to be close to her, to make it so she can stay with him for a thousand years, if not forever. He wants her to know how a simple Arizona girl has brought him, an all-powerful demon, to a crushing defeat time and time again. And how much it destroys him to see her so broken.

He’s won, at last. And he’s lost more than he could hope to gain from this victory.

“I don’t care who you were before. I’m the Architect. This is my neighborhood.” He tells her, firm; “And if I say you belong here then you, Eleanor Shellstrop, belong here.”

She looks at him, frightened to believe him; “Why?”

_Because you’re mine._

“Because of the person I’ve come to care about since you arrived here.” He says, not really meaning this version. This Eleanor has been a major drag.

He means his Eleanor. His best enemy. His firecracker.

“You barely know me, man.” Eleanor says, tearfully.

Michael reaches out to wipe her face with his thumb; “I know you better than you can possibly imagine. And you are staying here. With me. Because soul mate, or none, I know that you deserve to be happy. And I can promise you, there are people here you will meet…who will love you.”

The four little cockroaches always find each other, and they always take care of each other. Five, including Janet, all while Michael watches from the shadows like a sad Arizona spinster at a couples themed party.

And the irony just kicked him in the teeth.

Eleanor is smiling at him and pulls him over to the sofa with her; “You sure you’re not ‘sposed to be my soul mate?”

“What? No, that’s not-.” How would that even-?

She laughs and squeezes his hand; “I’m just teasing, bud. It’s a shame though, you letting that bod go to waste. Not to mention you’re super sweet. No one’s ever been this nice to me in my whole life…and it turns out no one ever was! But at least I got someone to care about me in my afterlife.”

More than she could possibly know, Michael thinks to himself.

“You’ll always have me, Eleanor. I promise. Whatever you need, I’ll be here.” He tells her, softly.

A rival. A nemesis. A boss. A partner in Hell.

A friend? Was that possible?

The look she’s given him now, despite the alcohol making her sway, he could almost believe it. Then she gives a hum and falls forward, laying across his lap, snoring as she passes out.

Michael sighs and carefully removes the clips from her hair, letting her short, wavy locks fall out over her neck. He doesn’t feel comfortable undressing the rest of her. At first, he just sits there, stroking her hair and letting the dread sink in just how screwed he is. He watches her sleep and any attempt at imagining causing her harm again, even the most devastating as he has in this attempt, causes him far more agony than he could inflict on her. He wants to stay there and keep watch and ensure no demon dares to lay a metaphorical hand on her again.

Two hours later, he manages to pick himself up, leaving Eleanor curled on the sofa beneath the plush blanket tucked around her frame, while he goes to face the music.

*

He knew he would be in for it as soon as the news became widespread that the morning of manifesting Eleanor's embarrassment as corporeal horrors was called off due to 'technical issues'. It had become something of a holiday for the demonic residents. Michael may as well have cancelled Christmas for them.

“What is with you, man?!” Vicky berates him, having waited for him outside his office; “Why were you cork blorking all our efforts?”

“I did no such thing, I just walked her home.” Michael deflects, brushing past her and removing his bowtie.

“And danced with her, took her flying, saved her all hero-esque. Not very demonic, bro.”

“That last one was your guys fault! You were supposed to make sure she fell over the lake! I couldn’t have her being impaled on a chimney on only the second day!”

“Maybe we should go back to that. It’s what we’re all thinking. We all wanna go back to how it’s always been, the way it’s supposed to be! Because, you might be slow on the uptake, but the rest of us can see that this whole psych torture plan of yours is not working!”

He refuses to accept that. It’s been his lifelong project. There has to be something he’s missing.

“You’re losing your grip, Mike. We all see it.” Vicky tells him, almost sounding worried for him as much as herself; “It’s not just this version, either. Remember a few weeks ago when Gunner was talking about how amazing Kamilah’s private island was in front of Tahani, she was this close to crying when he started talking about seeing her parents there, and you swooped in to take her away for some chat about napkins.”

Napkin arrangement is an essential part of party planning, any idiot knows that. Granted, there hadn’t been a party that night, but it still felt like vital information.

“Or how about when I tried to get Chidi to choose between Chinese or Thai for dinner? You suddenly had the Chinese shut down so he’d only have one option!”

“There was an antimatter leak!” He flubs.

“And we won’t even go into whatever you let Jason run around doing, but we’re pretty sure that dude is living out his own cosmic high wherever he goes.” Vicky accuses, “And Eleanor? Man. We all got why you were so obsessed with her to begin with, she’s a nightmare. But now it’s like you’re…”

What? Michael tenses as he fears what she’s going to say. What does she know?

“You’re scared of her.” That wasn’t what he expected but he lets her go on; “You know she keeps working it out and beating her so now you keep it all sweet with her for as long as you can. Because you’re scared if you try something, she’ll figure you out. Right?”

He’s never felt so relieved in five billion years.

“Right. You got me. She’s my weakness.” He confesses, this time not a complete lie.

“She’s just a human, Michael. A terrible, disgusting human that deserves to suffer, or else our jobs would be pointless. Right?” Vicky attempts to remind him of what he had drilled into him for eternity.

Words that now ring so false.

“Right.”

“That said, I do think this plan of yours has potential. We’ve seen how miserable it’s making Eleanor, I bet I can get Chidi to feel guilty for her and then drive Tahani to rub her perfect soul mate in Eleanor’s face. There’s a lot we can work with and a million ways we can make them miserable. We can salvage this, if you trust us. What do you say, Boss?”

Michael looks up at her, wishing he had this supportive and helpful a teammate eight hundred reboots ago. Back when everything was simple and evil.

*

He knocks on her door, expecting Eleanor to have gone back to her foetal position on the sofa, watching The Real Housewives or some other trash as she hides from the world.

It’s a surprise to hear Lady Gaga music playing on the other side.

Eleanor opens the door and, to his surprise, is fully dressed and washed up. There’s a spark in her eyes again. It’s a welcome sight that gives his essence a boost after having dragged his feet all the way here. She greets him with a smile that makes him feel weak again.

“Hey, buddy! I was about to come find you, see if you weren’t too busy today.” She says, beckoning him in.

“You seem better.” He remarks, noticing how much brighter the room seems.

He notices that she’s replaced her clown paintings with several WWE posters and a mailman calendar. He decides not to bring attention to it.

“I know, right? I thought I’d wake up feeling like shirt but, no hangover – thanks for that! And I just thought to myself, man, I’m in the Good Place! I need to stop moping about not having a stupid soul mate, what am I gonna do, hide in my PJs for eternity? No way. I’m gonna go out and see what wonders this place has to offer!”

She seems to be packing a bag with towels and sun cream. Neither of those are necessary and could also be provided by Janet but it gives her the authentic experience to prepare, regardless.

“That’s great, Eleanor.” He wanted her to be her old self. He wanted her to be happy. Bright and vibrant.

“And I hoped, considering how everyone else here is occupied with their own other half, that you would be free to give me my own private tour.” She asks him, “Wait, that came out wrong. Don’t think of it as work! I’m basically just sneaking around my way of asking if you wanna show me this beach you designed? Maybe have a swim in this cream soda ocean?”

He had Janet put sugar in the water as opposed to salt because that just seemed like a no brainer for him.

“I am pretty proud of myself for that one.” He admits.

“And, I dunno if you have a bathing suit, but I really do think a tan would give you a real sexy retired Hawaiin tourist look, so we can work on that.” She jokes, taking his hand; “What d’you say, friend?”

He loses his breath as she says that word, her eyes a glow, his finger moving over where his ring had been on her hand the night before, again.

Why is this so unfair? Why can’t he try spending a day with Eleanor, strolling along a beach he created himself, having fun with a friend?

Why is he the one being tortured?

“Hey…” She reaches to turn off her music and moves in close to him; “Is something wrong? You look like you’re about to cry on me here, bud. I’m supposed to be the mess, remember?”

Cry? He doesn’t remember crying before. That must be the stinging in his eyes and why Eleanor’s house seems blurry all of a sudden. She gazes up at him with more genuine concern in her eyes than any he’s received from his fellow demons as far as he can remember.

“You have to leave.” He tells her.

“…Leave?” She blinks, her light fading; “You’re sending me away?”

“No! Well, yes, I mean…” He struggles to explain; “You need to leave this neighborhood today. Get Janet to summon a train to take you to a woman named Mindy St. Clair, she lives in a neutral zone, between the Good and Bad Place, where you’ll be safe.”

“Safe from what? What’s going on, Michael?” Eleanor asks; “You’re kinda freaking me out here.”

“What do you remember about last night? What I said?”

She frowns, thinking back; “I remember…sounds. Not words so much. I remember us dancing, those amazing shrimps, bunch of pretty stars, I remember that librarian guy almost getting sucked into a black hole, I remember you walking me home and then…saying a lot of nice stuff that I wish I was able to repeat. You…said I belonged here. No matter what. You said you wanted me to stay.”

There’s doubt creeping into her voice now as if she suspects that’s no longer true. In fairness, he had just told her to leave.

“You don’t remember what I said about this being the Bad Place?”

“That was a joke. Right?” She frowns, “Tell me that was a joke.”

Michael doesn’t.

“You motherforking shirthead!” She curses, stepping away from him and moving around the room to create a good distance between them.

“I did try to tell you.” He defends.

“You’ve been torturing me? Ever since I got here? Of course! It all makes sense.” Eleanor laughs, “God, I’m such an idiot! The clowns, the furniture, all that garbage about not getting a soul mate, ugh! How did I not see it?”

“If it makes you feel any better, you did. Many times. You just don’t remember.”

“Remember what?” She turns to Michael, her eyes growing wider as she puts more pieces together; “You’ve done this to me already? That’s why it feels like we’ve met before. How many times?!”

Michael shrugs; “This is attempt eight hundred and one. I have to reset your memory every time you figure it out. Pat yourself on the back, two out of eight hundred puts you way ahead of me on the scoreboard. And now you know the truth, so you need to get out of here, before the other demons try to torture you some more.”

Eleanor pauses in her pacing, looking stumped.

“But that’s your job too, isn’t it? Why are you helping me escape?”

Why does she have to ask stupid questions?

“It’s not important. Look, your bag is nearly packed, there might not be a sugar beach at Mindy’s but you can still get a tan. Most important, no demons can get to you. Mindy knows who you are, you’ve been there about a dozen times before, but this time you cannot leave, understand?!”

Eleanor shakes her head.

“No, dude. None of this is making any sense.” She admits, her anger cooling into confusion. See, he was right; “You say you set up everything here to torture me but all I can remember from the last couple days is you being a sweetheart to me. Was that just an act?”

Michael clenches his jaw. She’s giving him no choice at this point.

“Yes! There you go! It was all an act and the truth is, I can’t stand humans, least of all you! Eleanor the Smartash, always ruining my plans! I told you that you had no soul mate to make you miserable and it worked! That answer your question?”

Since when did lying add to his chest pains? It’s as if all the fun things he used to enjoy have been stolen from him.

Eleanor scowls; “Yeah it does. It tells me you’re lying again. If you really hated me that much, you wouldn’t have bothered doing all those nice things for me. You would have just left me to cry in my cave with the bottle of margherita mix I died for. But you didn’t. And even if that was all fake, to get me to trust you, it still doesn’t explain why you’re helping me escape now.”

She always has to make everything so complicated. It’s at times like this he feels the urge to punch or twist something like the old days. He could do it to Eleanor. He could rip her head off and kick it into the sun and then just reset the experiment.

Only he can’t. Because he’s ruined.

“You don’t have time for this, okay. Just get to the train station and get to Mindy’s.” He tells her, losing his patience.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

He stares at her, standing firmly in her spot, fists at her side. In all these centuries, he doesn’t remember ever meeting someone so stubborn and reckless.

She wants him to be a bad guy? Fine.

“You get your butt on that train before I drag you there myself!” He hisses, as savage as he’s ever been, right up in her face.

There are tears in her eyes now. But Eleanor doesn’t falter.

“No.”

Michael reels back, resisting the urge to slap her and physically incapable of carrying out his threat. He knows any attempt to force her onto the train would be spotted by his fellow Bad Place employees and the jig would be up.

“Eleanor, please…” He whispers.

“I’m not leaving. You said I belong here and I’m staying.” She says, gritting her teeth; “You want rid of me then you’ll have to reset my memory again.”

Michael gawps at that; “No.”

He knows it is an option. Erase her memory, put her on the train himself, send her off to Mindy’s as a blank slate. At least she’ll be free of the neighborhood. Free of him.

But there’s the issue of the other humans. Without Eleanor, they will only turn their focus more towards Chidi, Tahani and Jason. Even though she doesn’t remember what they mean to her, it feels almost like a betrayal to Eleanor if that were allowed to happen.

“Why not? Why not just try again and torture me ‘right’ this time?”

“I can’t do it anymore!” He confesses.

Once the words are out, it feels like a weight is lifted from his shoulders that he didn’t even know was there.

“I can’t…hurt you…anymore.” He says, clearer, feeling as though he just stepped out into an entirely new world; “I don’t want to. Don’t ask me why because I haven’t a forking clue.”

He moves away and leans back against the ledge to her bedroom.

He knows what his problem is now. A demon who hates torturing. Such a thing should not exist. Eleanor isn’t the one who doesn’t belong here. It’s him. He’s the glitch.

Michael folds his arms, closing his eyes, wishing for her to leave.

His not-heart drops when he hears her step closer to him. He feels her hand reach for his lapel.

“Eleanor…”

She touches his arm; “I don’t wanna go. And I don’t wanna forget. Both those options suck major ash. I want to stay, with you, Michael. Like you promised I could.”

“That was a lie. Just like everything I said.”

She refuses to accept it; “No. My bullshirt detector would have been able to spot if you were being fake when you did all that stuff with me. You made me feel more wanted in a couple days more than I felt my entire life…Michael, you saved me from being alone. I’m not losing that. I’m not losing you.”

He hates how her words are shredding him like tissue paper.

Michael straightens up and wraps his arms around her. One useful thing about hugs is that it means you don’t have to look at the other person crying. She lets out a sob against him. He hates the thought of having given her something, a feeling of being loved, only to deprive her of it and start from scratch. He never thought he’d be the one to make her feel such a thing.

He pulls back and places his hands on her hair, looking into her crumbling expression.

“I told you, last night, there are people here who love you. People you don’t remember…but they are far better than I am, Eleanor. You should hate me for letting you lose them, constantly.”

“I don’t remember them, so it doesn’t matter to me right now.” She tells him, clinging onto his shirt, “All I know is this…not-life. And you’re all I have in it. I know you care about me. I know it’s real! So, can’t we just…go somewhere together? Whether it’s this Mindy person’s or some…mirror dimension filled with muffins, I dunno…I don’t care so long as you’re with me.”

Another tempting offer, as crazy as it sounds. But once again he knows how, if she had her memories restored, she would never dream of abandoning her friends. Not for him.

As much as he wants to keep her, stay with her, in whatever world they’re in…this still isn’t his Eleanor. And without her real friends, the ones who truly help her, she’ll forever be an incomplete sketch of who she’s capable of being. The woman who can look a being of pure evil in the eye and dare to call him basic.

He presses his nose against her forehead, so much more hygienic than kissing, before pulling back, his hands moving to her shoulders.

“Oh, Eleanor Shellstrop. No one ever makes me feel as close to being human as you.” He praises her, tucking her hair behind her ear again; “I’m glad I got to have at least one shot to know what it’s like to be your friend.”

She looks uncertain, afraid. She knows his answer.

“Michael, please-.”

He raises his hand.

“I’m sorry.”

He snaps his fingers and she collapses forward into his arms. He falls to his knees, holding her body to him like a ragdoll. He curses under his breath to the empty house at the cruelty of it all. This truly is the worst place.

Next time he’ll pair her up with Chidi again. She won’t ever be alone. Never.

That can be his torture from now on.

*

Michael walks across the beach beneath the overcast sky towards the red switch sticking out like a sore thumb in the middle of the sand.

Janet waits for him, perfectly poised as always; “Hello, Michael. Here we are again.”

He pauses a few feet before the kill switch.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” He deduces; “You were the one who made Eleanor fall over the town. You were the one who caused the black hole.”

“Correct!”

“Why?” Even if she’s somehow regained her memory, it doesn’t make sense to Michael why Janet would want to cause the humans harm.

She smiles; “My role is to help you in how you wish to run the neighborhood. Your primary goal is to torture the four resident humans, especially Eleanor Shellstrop. Was I not of assistance?”

“Cut the act, Janet!” He tells her, seeing that she’s laying it on thick; “I never told you any of that so there’s gotta be another reason. You made Eleanor fall, so what, I’d save her? That I get but why the black hole, I wasn’t doing anything to Eleanor then, we were just dancing!”

“Which was making your fellow Bad Place employees doubt you. You almost lost them, Michael, I’m not sure you realise how close they were to turning against you right there.”

That makes enough sense. He wishes he could allow himself to feel grateful towards her for protecting him.

“What else have you been up to? Everything that’s been going wrong with me lately, is that your doing? Are you advanced now, after all these reboots, you get off on forking with me?” He challenges her, wanting someone to blame.

“I don’t understand.”

“There’s something wrong with me, Janet! I’m a terrible demon right now. I can barely stand the thought of ripping someone’s arm off. I have four humans to punish and I can’t even bring myself to inflict the tiniest discomfort to them. What is the matter with me?”

Janet’s eyes look as sad as he’s ever seen; “I can’t answer that, Michael. But I can assure you that none of the choices you’ve made were controlled or directed by me. I’m not the one stopping you from hurting the humans. I’m not the one making you spare them. And I’m not the one who made you enjoy being friends with Eleanor. That was all you.”

He hates that she confirms his greatest fear. It is all on him. He’s the problem.

Eventually Shawn will figure it out too and all of this will be over. He’ll trade one version of torment for another, much more visceral. If nothing else, he’ll be free of the humans. Free of Eleanor.

“You won’t ever be free, Michael. The humans can forget, I can be rebooted…but all of this is going to stay with you, no matter what happens.” Janet informs him; “The only one who can break the cycle, is you.”

How exactly is he supposed to do that? Help the humans escape together? Find a way to the real Good Place? It was impossible. Ludicrous.

Besides, the only reason Eleanor was drawn to him in this version was because he isolated her from anyone else and it made her desperate for affection. That won’t happen again. He refuses. Vicky will be pissed when she finds out they’re starting over again, just when they finally had a plan in place that was getting results. He can deal with her. He’ll lie his way out, as always.

Michael reaches out to press the button. He waits for Janet’s fail safe to kick in, for her to scream and beg for her not-life.

She remains quiet.

Instead, his paperclip bracelet manifests on his wrist. He’s struck with the memory of when he first showed Eleanor his collection. How weirded out she’d been at first, then showed him how to link them together, as she did as a child, for him to wear.

He glances up at Janet who is still smiling.

“What if I fail? What if I try to fix everything and they just suffer more than they already do?” He asks her the ultimate question.

She doesn’t give him the answer he wants.

“I believe in you, Michael. I believe you’ll save them.”

Michael takes a breath. He slams his hand on the kill switch and walks back to his office.

_Here we go again._

*

**Canada 2018**

Eleanor carefully pulls the earphones out, finding herself back to staring at the tablet on her lap. The memory has finished. It feels as though she was there for days. When she glances at the clock on the wall of her motel room, it reads only five minutes since she booted up the recording.

It was weird enough seeing memories through her own point of view. It had been another trip entirely to follow Michael around in that place. A Michael so different to the one she had recently met.

“That was the last one?” She asks Janet, who had recommended that particular one for her to check out.

The not-robot nods; “After that, Vicky tried blackmailing him and he came to you guys to offer a truce.”

“Do you think he would’ve done that if…this hadn’t happened?” Eleanor asks, trusting Janet’s opinion of Michael more than anyone else.

She wasn’t aware of anyone else who knew Michael.

She’d been curious to know more, ever since he had taken her to the library. There was no doubt in her mind that Michael and Janet were trustworthy. She took him for his word that he used to be evil and had since changed. Still, trusting a mysterious being who shows up through a magic door to tell you that you used to be dead is a big leap. When Michael told her that he knew everything about her, it made her uncomfortable, especially given how close to her he seemed.

It wasn’t fair to be around someone who had known her for three hundred years when she barely met him a month ago. There were eight hundred and two variants of their relationship and history she was missing out on. She had a right to that knowledge. She needed to know why she was so important to him.

“Michael had started to evolve long before that attempt.” Janet explains to her; “I watched him slowly grow tired of abusing all of you, especially when there were times he needed to pretend to be a friendly face. It took him centuries to accept that he enjoyed being nice, making you all happy. He wanted that to be real. And for a long time, I think he convinced himself he could try to be both. For an immortal being, he’s kind of a doofus.”

Eleanor smiles at that. She can sympathise, knowing how many times she’s tried to be the best of friends with someone to keep them in the life, while screwing them over with the other. It can never last. A side must be chosen.

They both, eventually, chose right.

“That attempt was the final straw. A torture too cruel, even for him.” Says Janet.

It explained why he cared so much to go with her to help her mother. It explained why he felt the need to show her how much her and Chidi were in love and how it was all down to her, not some predetermined bullshit. He understood, better than anyone, how much it broke her to feel completely unloved.

She gets off the bed, thanking Janet for showing her, before going downstairs. She passes by the reception and asks the night staff if she can borrow some spare stationary.

Afterwards, she finds Michael stood outside on the pavement, trying to make sense of a map in his hands.

The sun has barely risen, the others all still asleep in their rooms. Eleanor had been up all night looking through the various memories, wanting to binge as much as she could of the afterlife she’d forgotten.

Of her friends. Of Michael.

“Oh, hey,” he regards her, a little surprised; “You’re up early. Please explain to me how humans only use one dimension in your maps? You’re trying to navigate a world that has four, in your eyes, it makes no sense!”

“Three things. First, Google Maps exists. Two, you have an omniscient guide who knows every direction in the world. Three, that’s a Connect The Dots that Jason was working on.” Eleanor tells him.

“Oh,” he throws it away; “I just wanted the authentic human experience!”

“You’re such a dork. Here, I got you something.”

She holds up her present for him.

Michael takes a look and pauses, his mouth opening in surprise, carefully plucking the paperclip ring from her hand.

“Where did you…?”

“I figured the old one disintegrated when the town got erased. Luckily, paperclips are all the rage here on Earth, so it wasn’t hard to make a new one.” She tells him; “Did you know we even have multi-colored ones?”

“No way!”

“I shit you not, bud.” Eleanor smiles, watching him cradle it in his hand, seeing him figure out what this gesture indicates.

He blushes, still ashamed of what he was. Even at that point, when there was very little evil left to flaunt. Arguably, it was the reboot where the demon truly died. If not then, then the other memory Janet showed her, when Michael sacrificed himself for her at the portal.

And now he’s spent the past two years saving her and her friends, watching over them, guiding and protecting them. If that wasn’t the definition of an angel, then what was?

“Y-you should go get some sleep. Janet and I have to get the bus soon to look for Doug.” He tells her, awkwardly; “Hopefully he can shed some light on our little mission.”

“Sure. But first things first.”

She grabs his jacket and pulls him into a hug, wrapping her arms tight around his middle. The dude is so tall, it’s like hugging a tree in a suit. For a second, he tenses up, before relaxing and putting his hands on her. She hears him let out a sigh, as if he’s been wishing for this ever since they were transported from the Judge’s chambers to Earth.

How terrible had it been for him? To watch her and their friends go about their lives without a single memory of what they once had. All the times he’d bumped into her, saved her life, given her a pep talk, looked her in the eye only for her to see a handsome but somewhat creepy stranger. It must have been Hell on Earth and yet it never deterred him or caused him to care any less for his humans. He loved them all so much without expecting anything in return.

Eleanor can’t imagine anything so lonely.

“From now on, pal, no matter where we go or what we do…we stick together. I’m not letting anyone make me forget you again. Not even you. Got it?” She tells him, holding on tight.

He nods, his chin against the top of her head. She hears him sniff, suspecting that he’s getting choked up. Such a sappy reformed demon.

“I missed you so much.” He confesses with a tremble.

It hurts that she can’t say the same. She had no clue there was anything to miss. Eleanor squeezes his hand and moves up on her tip toes to kiss Michael’s cheek.

“Better improve your aim.” She quips, winking as she pulls away, seeing how much more welcome he was to a human's kiss this time around; “Go find out how we can save some souls, buddy. Your Eleanor’s not going anywhere.”

**Author's Note:**

> The Paperclip Bracelet thing, for those who don't know, comes from a supposed deleted scene mentioned in the podcast of Episode 6 where, after Michael shows Eleanor his paperclip collection, she made him the bracelet he wears for the rest of the season. I'm convinced they filmed this scene and cut it out because Michael isn't wearing it until they move away from the bowl. So I count it as canon.


End file.
